


willing to take the blame (only ever wanna say your name)

by LovlieLittleLies



Series: didn't know I had to read your mind [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angry Liam, Crying, Daddy Kink, Feelings, Fluff, M/M, Panic Attack, Sad, actually they're both very sad, liams very sad, like a lot of feelings, post breakup, ziam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-17 00:48:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8124157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovlieLittleLies/pseuds/LovlieLittleLies
Summary: Zayn moves on with his life.-Except, like, he doesn't. Because Liam is Zayn's life and Liam doesn't love him anymore.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to 'sold everything i had (for something I can't seem to find)'. I couldn't just leave poor baby Zayn so alone and sad. It'll probably make sense if you read it on its own, but I reccomend reading the first part before this one. Thanks for reading xx
> 
> Title from Anyone But You by Hinder

Zayn moves on with his life. 

He tries to ignore the sympathetic stares, and he definitely ignores the angry ones. He still sees One Direction and his name written side by side every day, but he fucking ignores it because this is what he wanted, damn it. 

Except this is not what he wanted. There is no scenario that could trick him into thinking that this is what he wanted. 

Three days into the "normal" thing, he knew this was not what he had imagined life being like. His skin had been crawling and his fingers had been twitching, although he couldn't decide what for - a cigarette to take the edge off, or a pencil to write until he broke every last bone in his hand. Songs, letters to people, anything. He just couldn't keep these thoughts in his head anymore because it felt like they were falling all over the place without his permission. 

About eight months after his official separation from the band, Zayn still feels a little numb to it all. He feels like he's burning, like he's been twitching anxiously ever since he decided to officially leave, like he can't think because everything is coming on way too fast. Zayn doesn't do fast. Zayn can't do this. 

The holidays are approaching quickly and Zayn feels like he can't breathe anymore. He can't stand the thought of a Christmas where Harry doesn't insist on baking cookies and playing cheer-y music with lots of sleigh bells. He doesn't want to imagine a Christmas Eve that isn't titled Louis Day in his phone's calendar. He doesn't want to sit home alone on New Years, or go to some god forsaken club because neither of those options give him a red-faced Niall giggling by his side. 

Zayn doesn't want to spend another second without Liam. 

In the beginning, Zayn never had to. Liam was never more than an arm's length away because the five of them were always together. Even then, Zayn never wanted space. Zayn only always wanted Liam closer. 

And then they got older, grew up and made names for themselves, realised what they were and what this life was. Zayn got to do it with Liam by his side. 

They were always different. They were nothing like Louis and Harry, and that made them feel strange in the beginning. If Louis and Harry were a raging fire, Zayn and Liam were a flowing waterfall. Louis and Harry balanced each other out, hyper and calm, in-your-face excited and low-key happy. Louis and Harry stumbled into each other and fell in love the second they met. They were always falling in and out of love, but even their out didn't mean they'd stopped loving. They were wild and quick and enticing and so, so wonderful. 

But the waterfall - waterfalls are all different. Liam and Zayn skirted around their feelings for months, walking on broken glass to fight off their instincts. It was never like they didn't know, because they were both very much in love and they both knew the other also felt that way. They were slow and intense and nothing about them had ever been crazy. They were calculated, careful, and chilled out the whole time. Everything they did was soft and slow, but the intensity and passion sometimes felt like it was killing them. They fell into each other in secrecy and never managed to pull away. 

Zayn does not want to pull away.

It's been six weeks since he's seen Liam. 

It's been seven months since Liam loved him.

*

It wasn't supposed to be a thing. Liam wasn't supposed to be angry and cold, and Zayn wasn't supposed to give him everything he wanted. The "daddy thing" should never have become a "thing" in the first place. 

Zayn was desperate, for Liam's love almost as much as his touch. After that night in the hotel, nothing had changed. Liam did not talk to him, would not return his texts or calls. Except then Liam started calling him with slurs in his voice and texting him at two in the morning with more misspelled words than ones that were actually readable. Zayn was concerned, and Zayn missed Liam. Zayn just wanted to see a little bit of the passion he'd come to love so much when it shined in Liam's eyes. 

Every time they met up, Liam was the same. Hard, cold, relentless. He didn't look into Zayn's eyes, didn't speak, didn't touch him sweetly. He got them both off like it was a duty and then left before Zayn could breathe properly. 

There was one time that Liam had stopped in the middle, literally just picked up his ringing phone and walked into the bathroom to answer it. Zayn remembers the slam of the door, and then hearing Liam screaming even though he was too disoriented to listen to the words. He heard a heavy sigh and then "God damn it, Harry, fine. I'm coming back, just. Just leave me alone." And then Liam was gone. 

(When Zayn entered the bathroom later, the corner of the mirror was cracked. Zayn tried to believe that that crack had been caused by someone else, years ago.)

(Zayn knew he was lying to himself.)

So, no, it was not meant to be a thing. But Zayn would have done anything to spark any kind of interest in Liam, and that had done it. Just a little - Liam still fucked him hard and then left - but at least now Zayn got to hear him moan sometimes. 

Zayn would do anything for his Liam, which sounds a little pathetic considering he's the one who left. He knows that has to be what this is about, but he can't figure the logistics. He just wants to help and have his giggly little bean back.

*

"Daddy!" Zayn grits his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut. His body is straining up against Liam's touch, back arching from the base of his spine all the way to his shoulders. Liam's got one hand around both of his wrists, keeping them from lifting off of the mattress, and the other is on his cock. "Oh, god. Oh Liam, daddy, fuck!"

He's compensating. He's making up for every word and moan that Liam will not say. He's putting on a show and he knows it, but it's a damn good show.

He startles when he actually gets a response. Liam's voice is quiet and gravelly in his ear, but it's the first thing Liam has said to him in person since last March, so he'll take it. 

"Yeah, baby?" Liam whispers, breathing through it slowly. He doesn't slow any of his movements. "Like it? I know you do. Love when daddy holds you down?"

Zayn's spine arches even more, if that's even possible. He thinks his back might break, but he loves it. His whole body is thrumming with the need for moremoremore, more Liam and more words and more touch. He mumbles as much, and Liam laughs against his throat. 

When Zayn comes, he goes pliant and let's Liam continue on. It's only a few seconds after when Liam also stills, his head buried deep in Zayn's neck. Zayn relishes in the touch, in Liam's breath coming out in slow puffs against his burning skin. 

Liam gets up and goes into the bathroom, and Zayn pretends he doesn't want to cry. He can wait until he's in his car, or maybe just until Liam's gone. 

But the bathroom door doesn't open. Liam doesn't leave. Zayn holds his breath. 

The first time he hears a sob, he's sure it's just Liam's breathing. But then he hears more, more sobs and sniffles and whimpers. His heart jerks in his chest. That's Liam, that's his Liam, and he's crying. 

Zayn is careful as he approaches the door. He has no idea what he's doing. It's been nearly a year since he's been the one comforting Liam about anything, and it's been a very long time since he knew what to say. Liam clearly doesn't want his love or comfort. But it's Liam and he can't just walk away. 

"Li? Baby, can I come in?" Zayn asks quietly, resting his forehead against the door. He doesn't want to spook Liam, and he has no idea what kind of reaction he's about to get. It could be violent and angry like the sex has been, but this doesn't sound like the Liam who's been fucking him in cheap motels for months. This is his Liam, the kind and gentle boy who's clearly distraught because he can barely get a breath in between sobs now. 

"No," Liam says childishly, "go 'way."

Zayn sighs and closes his eyes tightly. "Open the door, Liam. Please? Just talk to me."

He hears Liam mumble again, something that sounds a lot like "don't wanna talk to you" but then the door clicks open. Zayn pushes his way through before Liam can change his mind. 

He hesitates. Liam's sitting on the floor, curled around his knees. He has tear tracks running down his face, which is red and already a little puffy from the crying. Zayn feels his heart breaking more and more with every silent second that passes, but he has no idea what to do. It's all very strange because he's not used to being like this around Liam. They always knew where they stood with each other, but now Liam's a mystery to him and it isn't supposed to be that way. 

Zayn wants to hold Liam, to keep him in his arms until time magically rewinds and they're eighteen again, to keep his beautiful boy from turning into this ball of anger and sadness and whatever else Liam is feeling right now. 

He keeps his arms at his sides and doesn't dare to touch Liam. 

"You didn't call."

Zayn startles out of his thoughts. "I... I didn't realise I was supposed to."

"Of course you were fucking supposed to." Liam snaps, and Zayn feels even more confused because Liam never cusses like that, never speaks with bitter resentment. "You left. You left us. And you didn't call. You said you'd call."

And then Zayn remembers. Liam isn't talking about now. He's talking about when he left the band, when he threw his phone down on the floor of his hotel room and left it there. 

(Zayn has a brief image of Liam, red faced and sobbing, just like right now, following him down the hall of a hotel. Liam begging him to stay, to just calm down and talk to him. Liam's hurt face when he wouldn't even turn around for one second.)

"Liam. Li, you know that wasn't about you. That was... I needed time." Zayn tries to be gentle with his words and soothing with his voice. His fingers start twitching, aching to hold a cigarette or maybe just to hold Liam. 

"Yeah, I know."

That one little sentence is enough for Zayn to thoroughly want to throw himself over a bridge. Liam sounds small and tired. Liam sounds like he's given up.

The first few days after leaving One Direction were much harder than the last few months. Now things are subdued and numb, but Zayn was angry and sad and disappointed and relieved. He didn't want to talk, didn't know how to even if he did want that. He didn't call. He promised Liam that it wasn't goodbye, that he'd check in soon, and then he turned his phone off for a week.

He tries again. "I had to have some space to think, to-"

"To think." Liam says, finally looking at him. Looking into his eyes for the first time in eight months. Zayn sees everything in Liam's eyes, sees exactly why he left and every reason why he should have stayed. "And you don't think I was taking the time to think? To think about how you were gone and I was alone and how you couldn't even pick up the phone? I spent two weeks on my phone, Zayn. Staring at the screen, thinking that maybe if I kept it in my hand the whole time you'd call. But you didn't. I had plenty of time to think because I couldn't do anything else."

Zayn takes a deep breath, because that's all he can do. He can only keep breathing. “You could have, Li. You don't need me to- to survive, to be as great as you are.”

“That's a bullshit excuse and you fucking know it.” Liam looks down again, but Zayn's sure it's only because he's so angry. It goes against everything they've known in the last five years to be angry with each other, but that's all the last eleven months have been. There's a long pause, and when Liam speaks again, his voice is drastically different. “D’you remember what I told you the night you first let me stay in your hotel room?”

For the first time in months, Zayn lets himself remember the times before he and Liam accepted their fate. Memories hit him like waves and each one feels like a punch in the stomach. But he remembers, remembers every second of their first night together.

“You said….” Zayn looks down. He doesn't want to meet Liam's eyes. They're the same eyes that looked at him so lovingly that night, but the pain he sees in them now is too hard to look at directly. Pain that he caused. “Told me I was the only person you ever wanted to love. Told me you'd marry me someday, with the house and the kids an’ all that.” 

Liam huffs out a laugh, but it's self deprecating and it makes Zayn want to cry. “That's right, I did. And you remember when I said I'd always love you?” Liam laughs again, looking down at his hands. “I wish it had been a fucking lie, Zayn.”

That sentence hits Zayn harder than anything else. It’s not just that Liam doesn't love him - loves him, but doesn't want to - anymore. The fact that Liam is actively wishing things hadn't have happened between them feels like a stab in the lungs, even if Liam has a point. 

“Because I'm not going to marry you,” Liam continues, eyes downcast. “I'm going to watch Louis and Harry get married, and I'm going to babysit Niall’s future kids, and I'm going to miss you for the rest of my life. I wish I could just walk away like you did, but this is my life now. I wish I could love someone else - want someone else, even. And every goddamn day, I wake up wishing you were calling me, begging to come home. But you aren't calling me and I can't just fucking move on, okay?”

“Liam,” Zayn starts, but he pauses. “Liam, fuck.”

Because really, what else is there to say?

“Don't. Just- just fucking don't, okay?” Liam sighs, tugging at his hair harshly. He lifts himself up off the floor and walks back out into the bedroom, overly careful not to touch Zayn. “I can't do this, I have to go, I have to-”

And Zayn can see it before it even starts, can see the panic spreading through Liam's chest like a wildfire. The second Liam starts breathing heavily, Zayn’s there to forcibly push him down onto the bed. He kneels down beside Liam, resting both hands on Liam's knees, and whispers to him. “Liam, baby, shh. Shh, okay? It's alright. Just calm down.”

It doesn't work, of course. Zayn and Liam both know that once a panic attack starts, it takes Liam ages to get over it or even calm down. 

Zayn takes Liam's hand and presses it against his own chest, holding it there even when Liam jerks away like he's being burned. Liam slowly stops fighting and starts breathing again, following the pattern of Zayn’s careful breaths under his fingertips. It's a method they learned about within the first year of being together, one that's never failed to soothe Liam out of his anxiety. One that feels a little bit like home to them both. 

Liam's too exhausted to fight once he can breathe regularly again, so Zayn doesn't ask him to. He crawls into bed behind Liam and pulls Liam's head against his own shoulder, brushing his hand through Liam's hair lovingly. 

Liam falls asleep quickly, snoring softly against Zayn’s neck. 

Zayn doesn't move an inch all night.

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously all the usual disclaimers apply, I own none of these people and this is purely fiction.


End file.
